


After Three

by josafiend



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Double Alpha, Kimando, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josafiend/pseuds/josafiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bahrain Testing 2014.<br/>After an unfortunate mix-up with the hotel, Kimi and Fernando have to spend the night in the same room. Can they make it ten hours without killing each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Three

Fernando hates Bahrain.

 

It’s bad enough that the season has to stop off there, but to make them come out for testing as well?

 

No thanks.

 

He had tried to get out of it, but his requests were ignored, so here he is, trudging towards the check-in desk of the _Sakhir Royal Plaza_ with Stefano behind him and Kimi, earphones helping him to ignore the world as usual, bringing up the rear.

 

Booking forms are signed, key cards handed over, and all three men find themselves in the lift heading up to the fourteenth floor.

 

“I need you both ready for eight tomorrow morning please, gentlemen,” Stefano says.

 

Fernando nods curtly as the doors open, and he heads off down the corridor, with Kimi still ambling along behind. Fernando can sense the slight bounce in the Finn’s step, as though he’s walking in time to his music, and it irritates him, he wishes he could just find his room to get some rest after the horrendous flight that brought him here.

 

He looks down at his key, noting the room number, and counts his way down the doors, stopping when he reaches his.

 

Kimi also stops.

 

“Yes?” Fernando asks, glancing sideways.

 

“Why are you going into my room?” Kimi mumbles, tugging his earphones out and fixing Fernando with a demanding look.

 

The Spaniard tuts, “This is _my_ room, Kimi. Check your paperwork.”

 

“I did, this _is_ my room,” Kimi says firmly.

 

It’s turning into a bit of a square off, and with no Stefano to break things up between them, chests are pushed out and eyes glare warningly.

 

“This is ridiculous,” snaps Fernando, “they’ve just written the wrong number on your card!”  He snatches the card from Kimi’s fingers and pushes it into the slot, to prove the door won’t open.

 

A green led illuminates and the door clicks open.

 

“See?” Kimi says, somewhat smugly, and pushes past Fernando into the room, letting the door slam in his face.

 

Fernando’s mouth drops open in outrage and, without thinking of a sensible way to react to the mix up, rams his key card into the lock.

 

The green led bursts into life again and he throws the door open, storming into the room, where Kimi is already unloading his suitcase onto the bed.

 

The door slams into the wall and the windows shake.

 

“Get out of my room, Fernando.”

 

Fernando drops his belongings on the carpet and folds his arms over his chest, “My room.”

 

Kimi sighs and drops the jeans in his hands back into the case; he reaches into his pocket for his phone and, ignoring Fernando, dials a number.

 

“Stef, can you come and get Fernando out of my room please?”

 

Fernando stares incredulously at the side of his team-mate’s head as a muffled response is received.

 

“No, I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Kimi says, glancing at his unwanted guest, “thanks.”

 

When he hangs up Kimi smiles smugly and carries on unpacking.

 

Within a few moments there’s a knock on the door, which Fernando quickly strides across to open.

 

“Fernando, what’s going on?”

 

“Kimi is in my room,” explains Fernando, waving a hand in Kimi’s direction, “he is being ridiculous.”

 

Stefano sighs, looking from Fernando to Kimi and back again. “Fernando, come with me. Kimi’s already unpacked.”

 

Fernando makes a small petulant noise that turns into a hiss at the sight of Kimi’s lips curling into a smirk, and he follows the team principle back out of the room.

 

****

 

“What?”

 

For once Kimi and Fernando are unified in disbelief.

 

“How can there be no more hotel rooms in the whole of Sakhir?” Fernando demands, having been dragged unceremoniously back up to the fourteenth floor and into Kimi’s room, much to the disgust of its occupant.

 

Stefano shifts uncomfortably, “It seems that there was a slight misunderstanding when the booking was made. You see, when they were asked to accommodate Fernando and Kimi, they –,”

 

Both men’s brows crease as Stefano struggles for words.

 

“They what?” Kimi asks, tipping his head to one side.

 

“They automatically presumed the room was for –,” he stalls again, hands wringing together.

 

Fernando growls, “For crying out loud, Stef, spit it out!”

 

“They thought it was a couple. They… they assumed Kimi was a girl.”

 

A dark look passes over Kimi’s face and Fernando turns to the window, lips tensed tight together to suppress the uncontrollable laughter which threatens to spill from his mouth at any moment.

 

“They have another guest due to check out in the morning,” Stefano continues, “so you’ll just have to bunk up for the night.”

 

Fernando spins on his heel, “What? No! Stef.”

 

Stefano gives the Spaniard a beleaguered look, “What do you want me to do, Fernando?”

 

“Why don’t you share with him?” Kimi suggests.

 

“Kimi, my wife is here,” Stefano replies softly.  “I’m sorry; there really is nothing I can do.”

 

“This is my room,” Fernando snaps, and shoves Kimi’s case unceremoniously off the end of the mattress.

 

Kimi’s hands clench into fists by his side.

 

“It’s one night. Please, just get along for ten hours and you can have a whole floor between you if that’s what you need.”

 

Fernando glares across at Kimi, who scowls back.

 

“Fine,” they both mutter, and Stefano backs out of the room, hoping that both his drivers will still be intact by the morning.

 

****

 

Fernando throws himself onto the bed.

 

Kimi glares at him, “What makes you think you’re getting that?”

 

“It’s my room.”

 

“You can’t keep using that as an excuse.”

 

Fernando smiles, but there isn’t a scrap of friendliness in it, “Even if your name is on the paperwork, Kimi, you were booked in as my girlfriend. So why don’t you make yourself useful and fix me a coffee?”

 

“Why don’t you fuck yourself?”

 

“Temper temper –,”

 

Kimi snorts, grabs a couple of bottles from his case, the contents of which are now mostly scattered across the floor, and heads into the bathroom.

 

Fernando chuckles as the door slams.

 

****

 

“What the hell?”

 

Kimi smiles to himself, from his stolen position on the bed, as Fernando bursts back into the room with his dignity protected by a flannel.

  
“Why did you have to use every towel?”

 

“I was really wet,” Kimi replies, without looking up from his magazine.

 

“You’re a fucking piece of work, Raikkonen!” Fernando snaps, reaching down and grabbing one of Kimi’s hoodies and scurrying back into the bathroom.

 

Kimi’s on his feet but the lock clicks before he can get to the door.

 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” he yells.

 

Fernando starts laughing, “Leave me alone, I’m trying to dry my balls here.”

 

Kimi beats a fist against the wood, “You’d better stay in there, because if you come out here I’m killing you!”

 

“Aww, are you losing your cool, Iceman?”

 

Kimi’s eyes dart around the room, looking for something of Fernando’s to use as retaliation. He spots a toothbrush on the nightstand and grins widely, dropping it down the front of his boxers and jigging around until he’s happy that he’s had his revenge and puts it back where he found it.

 

“Two can play that game, fucker,” he hisses, and goes back to his reading.

 

****

 

“Get off my bed.”

Kimi’s only reaction to the order, when the bathroom door finally opens, is to raise his middle finger from behind the pages.

 

Fernando reaches forward, swiping a hand towards Kimi’s feet, but the Finn simply pulls his knees up to his chest without a word.

 

“I’m serious, Kimi. This is my room and my bed.”

 

Kimi rolls his eyes, “Says who? Besides, technically it’s _our_ bed.”

 

Fernando simply huffs, rounds the corner of the mattress, clamps a hand around Kimi’s ankle and pulls.

 

“Get off my fucking leg,” Kimi says in a slow, firm, voice, just before he skids across the quilt and lands with a thud on the floor.

 

Fernando steps over him and takes his place on the mountain of pillows, reaching for the television remote and turning it straight onto a football match.

 

“Turn that crap off,” Kimi snaps.

 

Fernando turns the volume up.

 

****

 

Kimi sits in the small arm chair beside the window, glaring at Fernando as he barely watches the game, playing with his phone while he resolutely ignores the other man in the room.

 

“If you’re not watching it –,” Kimi starts.

 

“I am,” Fernando says quickly, pulling the remote into his chest without looking away from the phone.

 

Kimi sighs and stares at the ceiling.

 

Without any warning, Fernando climbs to his feet and pulls his shirt over his head.

 

Kimi looks across at him, mouth dropping open in disbelief and then quickly turns his eyes back to stare blankly at the football on the television.

 

Fernando undoes his belt.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Kimi asks.

 

Fernando pauses with his hands around the fastening of his jeans, “I’m undressing for bed.”

 

“Why?”

 

The belt buckle clatters as it hits the floor.

 

“I don’t want to sleep in my jeans.”

 

Kimi sighs again, pushing up his cap to rub his forehead, “Why didn’t you bring pyjamas?”

 

“What did you bring to sleep in?”

 

“I sleep naked.”

 

Fernando snorts, “Not today.”

 

“Really?” Kimi’s lip curls with distain.

 

“Really.”

 

The chair slams into the wall as Kimi jumps to his feet, pulling his sweater off with a rough yank and throwing it onto the carpet.

 

Fernando is still frozen with his jeans around his ankles, watching in horror as his team-mate’s fingers make quick work of the shorts he’s wearing. Kimi’s breath comes in short, angry bursts, and his movements are quick and agitated, like he has a point to prove.

 

He pulls off his socks with a crooked finger, left then right, and his hands reach to the waistband of his loose boxers.

 

“Don’t do it, Kimi,” Fernando warns.

 

Kimi laughs through his nose, thumbs hooking the elastic down past his hips till the muscular slope of his groin comes into view.

 

“What’s wrong, Nando? Are you worried you won’t measure up?”

 

Fernando wets his lips as another inch of pale skin is revealed, but he doesn’t say a word.

 

Kimi smirks, “Would that mind fuck you, champ?”

 

Fernando hisses. Kimi’s words sting him inside, and he knows that’s exactly what they were intended to do. He hates Kimi right now, but he knows what he’s doing, and it’s fucking working because he’s furious.

 

He’s also hard.

 

Kimi’s eyes drop to the rising peak in Fernando’s briefs, and then roll slowly up his stomach and over his chest to finally lock with his wide brown gaze.

 

“Off.”

 

Fernando swallows and shakes his head.

 

“Why not?” Kimi asks softly.

 

Curiosity is starts to take Fernando’s mind an unwilling hostage. Is Kimi serious about what lies beneath those shorts? Is he serious about not measuring up? He steps out of his trousers, trying to give off an air of confidence in the face of this challenge, but his own eyes keep sinking to Kimi’s groin, trying to work out fabric from flesh.

 

“Fine.”

 

Kimi smiles crookedly and jerks his chin at his team-mate.

 

Fernando’s hands stop at his hips, fingers clutching at the underwear, paused in panic.

 

Kimi tilts his head to the side, “What’s keeping you?”

 

“I –,” Fernando croaks, his throat full of nerves he never expected to be there.

 

“After three?” Kimi suggests.

 

Fernando makes a small noise of agreement and sets his jaw tightly as he nods, “Okay.”

 

“Good. One, two –,”

 

“Are we going on three? Or is it three and then drop?”

 

Kimi’s eyes cross with almost comical disbelief, “After three,” he says firmly.

 

“Okay, after three,” Fernando repeats shakily.

 

Kimi raises his eyebrows in an expression that asks _‘ready?’_.

 

“One, two –,”

 

Their eyes lock.

 

“Three,” they say together, both pushing their underwear to the ground in a synchronised movement, and for a moment they continue to hold each other’s gaze, before Fernando’s will buckles and he looks straight at Kimi’s crotch.

 

“Well,” he says quietly.

 

Kimi grins, looking more than a little smug at the reaction, “Don’t feel intimidated, I’m sure we could coax a little more out of you.”

 

Fernando looks down at his own erection, feeling several emotions race through him all at once; shame, excitement and apprehension, but it’s inadequacy which looms above the rest.

 

He reaches to the floor, but Kimi moves forward, stepping on the shorts so he can’t pull them back up.

 

“Kimi, this is stupid,” Fernando sighs, “let’s just –.”

 

Kimi’s fingers reach out and squeeze the base of Fernando’s cock, making the muscle pulse hungrily at the restriction.

 

“I don’t want to stop yet,” Kimi murmurs, “you’ve put me in an awkward position.”

 

Fernando gulps as their naked cocks brush together, trying to take a step back but the nightstand is in the way.

  
“What position?” he asks.

 

Kimi glances down between them, “I think we both know the answer to that question, Fernando. I was ready to beat the shit out of you twenty minutes ago, but if there’s one thing I like better than fighting, it’s fucking.”

 

Fernando’s eyes widen slightly, the black pupils wide within the chestnut brown of his irises, “Wh- what makes you think you’re fucking me?”

 

Kimi chuckles and shoves Fernando’s shoulder, throwing his balance off and sending him toppling onto his back on the bed.

 

“Kimi,” Fernando begins, but Kimi’s already on the bed, straddling his thighs and smiling down at him with a predatory look on his face. “You are not fucking me.”

 

“I am.”

 

Fernando shakes his head and wriggles backwards on his elbows. It’s tricky because his knees are pinned together, but eventually his legs start to move.

 

Kimi simply falls forwards and takes hold of the Spaniards shoulders, one arm creeping up his back grab a fistful of hair. Fernando winces, but the pain is replaced by another, more pleasant, sensation as Kimi’s hips grind down on him, and Fernando can’t help but push up against him.

 

“You don’t seem so sure about that.” Kimi says, pushing his lips firmly against the corner of Fernando’s jaw, laughing softly at the low moan that escapes him.

 

He pulls on the hair, tilting Fernando’s head back and continuing the trail of lips down his throat, sucking on the tan skin until red marks appear. Fernando’s body moves beneath him, the indecision more than apparent. He doesn’t want Kimi to fuck him, but what he can’t quite summon is the will to push him away, because what he’s doing to him is too good.

 

Kimi’s left hand pulls away from Fernando’s shoulder, dancing down his side before pushing it between the mattress and his ass, grasping it then pulling the Spaniard’s thigh to hook over his hip.

 

Fernando grinds his upwards, sighing as he wrenches his hair free and seeks out Kimi’s mouth. His lips are full and soft, slightly swollen by the work he’s been doing on his neck. Fernando wants to knot his fingers through Kimi’s hair and choke him with his tongue, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, nipping and licking until Kimi’s chest resonates with a low growl and their teeth clash together impatiently.

 

“Sure you don’t want my dick in you?” Kimi asks, pulling away from the kiss and panting gently.

 

Fernando laughs, and with a grunt flips Kimi onto his back. The Finn’s eyes flash with objection, but Fernando ignores him, pinning his wrists to the mattress beside his hips and slamming their mouths together again.

 

Kimi struggles, and it’s an effort for Fernando to keep from being bucked off, but he bites down on Kimi’s lower lip, tasting copper as he breaches the skin.

 

“Sorry,” he mutters, but Kimi simply bites him back, his wrists tensing within Fernando’s grip as he clenches his fists.

 

Fernando kisses the corner of Kimi’s mouth and along his jaw, nipping at his ear before dragging his tongue down and over his collar bone. Kimi’s chest rises and falls with huge breaths, he’s still trying to escape the vice-like grip, but the movements are less violent, like he’s waiting to see what Fernando does to him next.

 

“Maybe I’ll fuck you instead,” Fernando suggests, a sly smile curling his lips.

 

Kimi snorts, the sound breaking into a sudden gasp as Fernando’s teeth lock onto his nipple, and his hips rise again.

 

Fernando crawls down his team-mate, pushing kisses and bites against the pale skin until he’s on his knees between Kimi’s thighs with his arms stuck out awkwardly ahead of him, still pushing Kimi into the bed.

 

“Can I trust you to behave?” he asks.

 

Kimi glares down at him, but when Fernando slowly releases his grip on the Finn’s wrists he remains motionless, watching him down the slope of his nose with his mouth open.

 

Fernando pulls Kimi’s right knee to his lips, pushing a kiss to it then licking a thick wet line towards his crotch. He’s making sure he doesn’t touch Kimi’s cock, because he knows it’s the one thing he wants, his movements reek of desperation and Fernando presses his free hand down on the opposite thigh, spreading Kimi out as he sucks hickeys into the soft skin beside his balls.

 

“Nando,” Kimi whispers, his neck muscles taught as he struggles to keep the Spaniard within his sights.

  
Fernando looks up at him, holding the eye contact as he purposefully breathes hot air along the length of Kimi’s cock, and his head falls back with a frustrated gasp as his hips twist and Fernando pulls him to the edge of the bed, dropping onto his knees between Kimi’s legs as they hang loosely over the side.

 

He sits for a moment, running his fingernails down the outside of Kimi’s thighs, enjoying the sound of his breathing and the way he’s stretched out across the duvet with his arms folded under his head. He’s looking at Fernando through half open eyes, pink flushed cheeks standing out against the milky shade of his skin, his mouth still open and his lips red with the slight imprint of teeth marks.

 

Fernando flicks a teasing tongue across Kimi’s balls before he curls his fingers around his cock, dropping his mouth straight down and groaning at the sound that Kimi makes; a deep and fiercely animalistic sound. He’s got Kimi where he wants him now and he loses his rhythm as an image of his team-mate impaled on his cock, writhing beneath him, pops into his mind.

 

Kimi’s cock is big, but Fernando angles himself, taking as much as he can and attending to the rest with his hand. Kimi props himself up on his elbows, staring breathlessly down as Fernando sucks him hard, his cheeks hollow and his eyes alive with determination. He reaches a hand out, lacing his fingers into the mess of Fernando’s hair and tries to focus. 

 

“C’mon,” Kimi sighs.

  
Fernando shakes his head, squeezing his hand and sucking harder.

 

Kimi chuckles, “You’re not going to make me come, Fernando. I won’t let you, not till I’m in you.”

 

The man on his knees growls as the hand in his hair tightens and lifts, the only option he has is to clamber upwards, using Kimi’s knees for leverage until he’s leaning awkwardly over him, trying to ignore his smirk.

 

“Get on me.”

 

Fernando looks incredulous, “No.”

 

Kimi rolls his eyes and uses the hair in his hand to pull the Spaniard down to his lips. Fernando mumbles his protests, but they’re smothered by Kimi’s tongue as it pushes roughly into his mouth.

 

Fernando tries to pull back, but Kimi is far too strong, and when he removes the hand from his hair Fernando finds that he’s not willing to break the contact, moaning as Kimi’s fingernails scratch down the length of his back and his hands grab at his ass, the force against his knees making it impossible to move forwards without straddling Kimi’s thighs.

 

Kimi chuckles as Fernando settles on top of him, pulling roughly at his hips and grinding their cocks together. Fernando’s hands find their way around Kimi’s neck, giving him no room for manoeuvre as he claims his mouth, oblivious to the way his hips are slowly rocking against him.

 

He freezes as a finger strokes across his entrance, eyes springing open while Kimi’s tongue is still invading his mouth.

 

“Chill out, Nando,” Kimi purrs, rolling his hips and feeling the shiver pass up Fernando’s spine.

 

Without waiting for a response he repeats the action and, with a grunt, Fernando pushes him straight onto his back, wriggling out of Kimi’s grip and making a wild grab for Kimi’s cock.

 

Kimi’s too quick for him though, and uses the Spaniard’s momentum to flip them back over, laughing as Fernando hisses Spanish curses at him and tries to push him away.

 

“You can’t kiss me like a whore and think you can get away with it, Fernando.”

 

Fernando scowls, but Kimi’s already reaching for the space between them, fisting both their cocks within his tight fingers and stroking them together. Fernando tries to argue, but the slick friction is making his resolve turn to jelly, and he’s straining for Kimi’s lips again within seconds.

 

Kimi throws Fernando’s left leg over his shoulder, using their precome to lube his fingers before teasing the opening again. Again Fernando tenses, but Kimi’s lips crash down on him and for a moment he’s lost, distracted long enough for the finger to push inside.

 

It’s uncomfortable, but Kimi twists and bends the finger, rolling his hips to keep Fernando’s need coming, and when he’s satisfied he adds a second.

 

Fernando pants softly, tilting his head, inviting Kimi’s teeth back into his skin, which the Finn provides enthusiastically. Kimi likes the idea of damaging that perfect skin, of branding Fernando so people know he belongs to someone, and he keeps biting and sucking until he can’t take it any more.

 

He pulls back, spits in his hand and coats himself, pulling Fernando towards him by his thighs. He’s looking at him with an expression of mistrust, fear and unquenchable lust and Kimi can’t remember a time that he’s wanted to fuck someone just by the look in their eyes.  Fernando’s brown irises are almost black in the half light coming in through the window, and the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead just makes Kimi want to throw himself inside and fuck him through the mattress.

 

“Kimi,” Fernando mumbles, staring at Kimi who now frowns with concentration.

 

“It’s okay,” Kimi replies, pressing the head of his cock against Fernando, his breath catching from the tightness he predicts within.

 

He wants to fill Fernando with his cock, he wants to make him shout his name and cry when he comes.

He reaches down, catching Fernando’s lips roughly, and pushes himself into the wonderful confinement, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ at the way Fernando’s ass contracts around him.

 

Fernando hisses, one hand gripping Kimi’s shoulder and the other balled in the sheet.

 

“It hurts,” he says, his brow knitting.

 

Kimi sighs, remaining still for a moment while Fernando adjusts and then rocking his hips slowly, but definitely.

 

“Better?”

 

Fernando grabs Kimi’s chin, letting him bend him almost in half as he pushes into him, harder and harder, until the bed’s moving from the force of the thrusts. Kimi’s fingers push into the skin over Fernando’s hips and he knows that it’s going to leave bruises but he couldn’t give a fuck about that.

 

Both of their bodies are slick with sweat and the moist friction between them makes the air around them crackle with static. Kimi licks the salt from Fernando’s skin, biting his cheek when the Spaniard hisses his name and when the room tilts; Kimi can’t stop the flurry of Anglo-Finnish curses that fly out of his mouth. He grabs Fernando’s cock, pumping it quickly and firmly so he can drag him over the edge with him, and the Spaniard starts whimper.

 

“Come for me, Nando. Come on my cock, you fucking whore.”

 

Fernando’s back arches against the mattress and Kimi bucks his hips, feeling his balls tighten and the orgasm grab him by the base of his brain and pinch his vision into blinding white light. Beneath him, Fernando come paints his own chest and he gasps for breath, looking shocked but sated.

 

Kimi rides the last of the orgasm out, eyes tight shut, forearms trembling as they struggle to hold his weight, and when he finally looks down Fernando is looking back at him with a disapproving expression.

 

“What, like you didn’t love that?” Kimi sniffs, rolling off his team-mate onto the cool sheet while his breathing levels out.

 

Fernando snorts and pulls the duvet up to his waist, “Get out of my bed.”

 

“Shut up, Nando.”

 

****

 

The next morning they arrive in the hotel reception, as instructed, at eight, and neither man looks as though he’s had more than a couple of hours sleep.

 

Stefano smiles and gestures for them to join him at the desk, the hotel manager looking eager and apologetic.

 

“My apologies again for the mistake, sirs, I have had a guest check out from the eighteenth floor, a double room with a balcony.”

 

Fernando and Kimi share a look behind Stefano’s back, and the principle sighs, knowing that the original room has no balcony, expecting fireworks.

 

“You know what,” Kimi says, yawning widely, “don’t worry about it. I’m fine where I am.”

 

Fernando’s eyes flash to the skin revealed when his team-mate’s shirt rides up from the stretch.

 

Stefano smiles at Fernando, “Fantastic, you just need to sign the paperwork, Fernando.”

 

The Spaniard eyes the sheet of paper, pulling a face.

 

“I’m already unpacked, Stef. It's fine.”

 

Kimi’s lip curls, he can see the top of an angry blemish trying to peek above Fernando’s collar line, and thinks back to a moment only a few hours ago, when he was sinking his teeth into his shoulder as he took him roughly from behind, knuckles white as he held onto the bed’s headboard.

 

Stefano looks baffled, “B-b-but…”

 

Fernando shrugs and hitches his backpack onto both shoulders, Kimi stuffs his earphones into his ears, plodding happily alongside Fernando as they head out to the waiting car.

 

“Come on Stef!” Fernando yells, and with a shake of his head Stefano follows them out into the sunshine.

 

He’d never understand drivers and, if he was honest, he didn’t really want to.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Luke, my teenage colleague, for the awesome prompt :)


End file.
